Some Kind of Comfort
by Saint Mirror
Summary: A story in which the rarest pairing of all is revealed and a certain medic learns something about himself and others that he never knew before or would have believed possible.


Disclaimer: I do not own the _Band of Brothers_ miniseries nor do I make any money in writing this work of fiction; likewise I mean no offense to the actual men whom the series is based upon as this is based on the actors.

A/N: I wanted to go into uncharted territory. This is slash, but it's a different kind of slash.

Some Kind of Comfort

"Hey Spina, is Doc a fag?" The Philadelphia-born medic froze in shock, the fog cloud his breathing generated dissipating momentarily as he processed the unexpected question. Slowly he climbed out of his icy foxhole to face the speaker. Wild Bill Guarnere stood shoulder to shoulder with Joe Toye, both men looming over Spina as he lifted himself out of the dirt hole.

"How the hell should I know, Bill?" Ralph's voice was tight with anger. Who the fuck would ask a question like that? He mentally snorted: Bill would, of course.

Toye spoke up, "You two are pals, right? If anyone knew, it'd be you." Spina rubbed his arms and shifted his weight. He was used to the cold but that didn't mean he liked it, and it just made him miss Philly even more.

"Well, I don't. Why the hell do you want to know?" A cold, hard knot of dread the shape and intensity of a bomb formed in Ralph's stomach. Though both Toye and Guarnere had conducted themselves with a kind of indifferent curiosity, Ralph could see the deadly intent behind their dark eyes and knew he had to protect the gentle medic.

Wild Bill shrugged, and Spina could see the strength in the ruggedly graceful movement.

"It's nothing, Ralphie. We only just saw him sleeping in ole Speirs' foxhole." The absurdity of this statement brought forth a snort from Spina, his eyes darting back and forth between Guarnere and Toye in the hopes that one of them would laugh, revealing their words for the farce he hoped they were. When his exclamation of mirth hung frozen in the cold air alone, he shook his head and shifted his weight from one foot to the other.

"No one sleeps with Lieutenant Speirs. No one's got the balls for it." Toye snorted at him in amusement and shuffled his feet.

"Yeah, either Gene's got a huge pair of 'em he's been hiding from us this whole time, or he's a fag." Bill nodded in agreement, his mouth half-open as he breathed the cold air in. Ralph's trained medic's eyes noted the small grimace of pain flitting across Bill's features, but he ignored in this time in favor of pursuing the conversation.

"Gene's no fag. He can't be."

"Oh yeah? Did ya know he's got a girl back home? Yeah that's what I thought: ya didn't. Why wouldn't the doc wanna talk about his little Cajun honey back home, hm? Why's he always staring off into space like it's talking to him, huh? Yeah, that's what I been wonderin'." Spina's head shook in denial even as it processed the puzzling questions.

"Face it, Ralphie, Gene's a fag." The very thought of Gene (his friend and a man whom he admired more than he was comfortable acknowledging) touching Speirs sickened him. In his mind's eye, he could see them together; he could see that man's hard mouth kissing, biting, bruising Gene's sensitive flesh; he could see the Cajun, his lithe body bent like a bow, the muscles in his taut stomach hard and trembling under Speirs' touch. God, was his flesh really hardening at the thought of Speirs kissing, touching, fucking Gene? What was wrong with him?

"Uh, prove it then." He hoped to God they didn't hear the lust in his voice or see the erection straining his pants. Toye and Bills' eyebrows rose in tandem, a sight that would have made him laugh if not for the occasion.

"Prove it?" He thanked God they'd taken the bait. He grinned cockily.

"Yeah, show me, or do I gotta ask Gene when he gets back if it's true or not?" He could have slapped himself. Bill grinned in a feral manner, excitement glinting in his eyes.

"You're gonna have to ask him yourself, Ralphie-boy. In fact, I'll give you a whole pack of smokes if you can prove he ain't." With that parting statement, they left, leaving Spina alone with his thoughts. Sighing, he slowly sat back in his foxhole, the same foxhole he shared with Gene.

What if it was true? What if Speirs, at this very moment, had Gene bent over and was pounding into that pale flesh? What if Gene enjoyed it? It was disgusting. How could anyone, male or female, want to have sex with Ron Speirs? He just had to know if it was true.

_'So what are you gonna do if it is true? Are you gonna report Speirs? No one will believe your ass over him, and you can bet your ass that Gene won't side with you. Fuck, if he did that, then he'd be admitting to lettin' a superior officer fuck him. No way in hell.' _These thoughts, uttered from the depths of his realistic, cynical side, stopped him cold. What was he thinking? Did he honestly think he could just waltz up to Speirs' foxhole and peek in without the man saying something to him? Nuts. The best course of action would be to wait for Gene to get back and not let up on the questions until he got the answers. Snorting with cold and satisfaction at his choice, Spina once again settled in his foxhole. He would wait for Gene as long as he needed to.

* * *

Gene stumbled into their foxhole many hours later, smelling of blood and sex and cigarettes. Ralph's nose wrinkled faintly at the smell, but he remained silent. Instead he took the time to study the other medic's features. His usually pale cheeks were flushed red and his messy black hair was more mussed than usual. His clothes were disheveled, and he was panting which made no sense since there hadn't been a call for a medic in hours, an oddity in itself. What had Gene been doing?

"What, Spina?" Ralph started guiltily not aware that he'd been staring. Oh well, he thought, now was as good a time as any. He cleared his throat hastily and pointed his gaze toward Gene's hands. So slender and delicate that he sometimes had a hard time believing they could do the work required of them.

"So, uh, Gene. I've heard some rumors about you…" Ralph trailed off, watching with fascination as Gene's fingers curled in quickly then shot out just as fast. A quick glance to Gene's face showed that this quick motion was the only indication that he'd heard.

"Yeah? What they say?" There was no emotion in that dark drawl only a calm curiosity. Ralph chuckled nervously, the sound high and frail.

"They, uh, they say that, uh, you an' old Speirs are, you know, kinda friendly." Another quick glance to the Cajun's features showed that one of his dark eyebrows had risen in what Ralph imagined was either amusement or interest.

"Yeah? That it, huh?" It was definitely amusement lurking in that Southern twang.

"Well no. Maybe they say you're more that friends. Maybe they say you two spend a lot of time together. Maybe they say that you two are pretty damn cozy." Those slender fingers clenched and stayed that way. Ralph looked up to see Gene staring calmly at him. His mouth quirked briefly at Spina.

"Maybe, huh?" Gene shrugged. "Maybe those maybes are true. Maybe me and ole Speirs are close. So what?" Ralph swallowed thickly; surprised by the boiling jealousy he felt roiling through his stomach. So what? Was that all the Cajun could say?

"Alright, well, what if I said they saw you in his foxhole? What if I said they said you two were fucking? What would you say to that?" They stared at each other, Ralph challenging and Roe considering. Roe finally shrugged.

"Then I guess I'd have to say them rumors are pretty damn accurate. Truth be told, they all sound true." The world seemed to stop as these words slipped through Gene's lips. Shock reverberated through Spina's body. It was true. It _couldn't_ be true, but…it was true. Everything was different; the world was different now that he knew this about his friend. How could this have happened? Why did this happen, and how the hell did Gene justify it to himself?

"Why you looking at me like that?" The amusement was still shining in those soulful dark eyes, and it pissed Ralph off more than he thought anything ever could.

"Motherfucker. Why do you think I'm looking at you like this? You're taking another man's dick up your ass, and you don't even care if people know!" Weirdly enough, this only amused gene even more.

"Don't give me that shit, Spina. I seen the way you look at me. You been wanting to fuck me since you saw me, and now you're mad 'cause someone got to me first," Roe paused and observed the blush clawing its way up Spina's neck and cheeks. "He don't put his dick in me anyway." Ralph blinked.

"He don't?"

"Naw. We just…help each other, ya know?" Ralph could only nod because the mental image Gene's words brought kept him silent. There was nothing he could say anyway now that Gene knew. Hell, Gene knew more about Ralph and his emotions than Ralph did. There was one thing he wanted to know, though.

"How did it get started? I mean, how did you to, you know…" Roe sighed, a big heaving production that conveyed how tired he really was, and settled deeper in the foxhole.

"You remember when I got my leg hurt? Well, one of the days I was gone for that, he shows up. Boy, he looked rough. I mean, here I was with this hurt leg, calm as shit and wantin' to get back to y'all, and there he was with this graze on his cheek, and his eyes, Lord, his eyes were so fucking sad. Christ Almighty, he looked so sad." Roe shrugged and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Spina said nothing. After a while, Roe continued.

"Uh yeah so that same day, he comes over to sit next to me. He don't say nothing of course. He ain't one to talk, ya know, not unless he's got something to say." Gene paused as he searched for the right words then rolled his eyes.

"I ain't got the words for what you wanna know, Spina. I can't rightly explain how it happened. I can say why though."

"Why, Gene? What's so fucking appealin' about him?" For the first time since he'd dropped into the foxhole, the amusement faded from his eyes.

"People is scared of him the same way they's scared of me. Don't give me that look, Spina, it's true, and you know it 'cause it's the same for you. Me and you are medics, and we're the ones who hold their lives in our hands. That scares the living shit outta them, so by default they scared of us, too. Speirs, well, he's got this way about him that scares people, but he's a good man. A real good man. Don't feel so alone when I'm with him."

"But you got me, Gene!" Roe flicked the remains of his cigarette onto the icy ground above them and ruffled Ralph's hair gently.

"Not like I got him. You'd want forever, and he don't. I don't. He's got a wife, and I got a girl back home. Neither of us is trying to mess that up. This thing we got here is just a comfort. Nothing else." Ralph gave in to the urge to capture those lean fingers in his grip. They were rougher than he thought they'd be.

"What's so comfortin' about him?" Spina could handle Roe not wanting to be with him because he was right: he would want forever; that was the kind of guy he was. But that didn't mean he wasn't curious. Gene shrugged, a small rueful smile playing across his handsome features.

"Whoever saw us must've seen us today 'cause that's the first time we've done that since I hurt my damn leg. Don't look so shocked, Spina. The world doesn't revolve around screwin'. Mostly we just sit around and smoke or whatever. I like doin' that. Reminds me of home," he grinned slyly, "except for the sex part of course." Ralph grinned and was pleased when Gene grinned back just as widely.

"So what do I tell the guys?" Gene smirked.

"Tell 'em the truth. I ain't no fag, am I?" Ralph smirked back.

"Hell no you ain't."

-End-


End file.
